


Self-Involved

by Eloarei



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: F/M, Incest, Self-cest, possibly disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloarei/pseuds/Eloarei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing wrong with being self-involved when everyone else in the world was an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Involved

They always said he was “self-involved”, and he was inclined to concede to it. It was the truth, after all. He'd tried multiple times to strike up meaningful relationships with others, but in the end, none of them lasted because none of them understood him, his thoughts, his theories, his _soul_ , for goodness' sakes. But it didn't bother him, so there was no reason it ought to bother anyone else. 

He spent his time working. It was what he was good at. Some would say he was the best in his field. The ones who wouldn't say so were just stubborn idiots, because anybody could see he was years ahead of the game. His peers had nothing to say of his genius, because he had no peers, no equals. Most of the time he worked alone, because otherwise he spent much of his valuable time attempting to teach his colleagues the finer details of his theories, which he thought was probably much like trying to train monkeys to read, an endeavor he never thought very highly of to begin with. 

That didn't leave him much else to be involved in so, yes, he was science-involved, and self-involved. 

And then it became more true than anyone could ever have anticipated. 

He was enamored from the moment he caught his first glimpse of her. Gorgeous, in ways he never considered himself attractive. Talking with her was inspiring, unlike the mild torture it was listening to common folk try to be clever. Rarely did he have to explain himself to her, and on the occasion that he did, she understood him immediately, and often then elaborated past even what he'd thought of. He'd have been a bit jealous if he wasn't so thrilled. In fact, he found he liked it when she showed him up, came to anticipate the moments when she so clearly expressed the details that sat jumbled on the tip of his brain. 

She seemed to always be one step ahead, and he adored her for it. (She later said the same of him, and they determined the best definition of such a feeling was “completion”.) 

Very soon, they were inseparable. He'd made the leap over to her world with few regrets, and the closer they became, the less significant those regrets seemed, until they were mere pinpricks in the night sky, where their union was the glow of the moon. (He wouldn't likely confess such poetic romanticism to her, though it was likely she knew, and perhaps thought the same.) They didn't always voice it, but it was apparent in the way they looked upon one another that they'd both found the missing piece. It had been some asymmetry, some speck in their eye that, when they faced each other, aligned them, so they could see themselves whole. 

And when they kissed, the universe seemed put right. He thought they might absorb each other, and become the being they were always meant to be. Maybe their tongues would meld, and every word they'd ever thought be wired straight to their brains through the vibrations of their vocal chords, shunning the open air, refusing to share with the world. Their mouths and noses would confine their breaths to each other's lungs, an infinite cycle of sweet, secret air just between them. Their heart-strings would pull at each other's, squeezing closer, tighter, flooding their veins with the other's life, until their single heart beat double-time in its loving fervor. And in the end they would be one again, a single person alone but, finally, together. 

Each kiss, each touch, brought such enlightenment, when he stepped back to view the world again, and see the ants crawling along its surface, he wondered how any being could survive without this. How could anyone achieve anything? Feel anything? Live without knowing the divine revelation of one's perfect other half? He pitied their lonely existences, for his “self-involvement” had become no longer a concession, but a blessing, and he knew he would be nothing without her.

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing anything Lutece-related, and it came out rather odd, so thanks for bearing with me.


End file.
